


Feyar Tabris Alphabet

by stealyourshiny



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Asexual Character, Other, Will add more as I go and may change rating later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 14:26:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1986378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stealyourshiny/pseuds/stealyourshiny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A-Z Meme for my Warden Tabris. </p><p>She is asexual and somewhat mercenary in her views of the world - something is either useful or it isn't, but if it is deemed useful, she will go out of her way to make sure she doesn't lose it (and may become attached).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A is for Alienage

She hated the place with a passion. Hated the rotting wood, the sewage smell, the dejected faces, and the stupid tree. Feyar wanted to get out of here as soon as she could, but she knew that she’d have to sneak out, and that was almost impossible. 

Besides, where would she go? The Dalish? Those self-centred pieces of shite could kiss her ass. Anywhere else and she’d just end up in another alienage. Besides, she _did_ have family here.

Watching quietly, she tracked the human that was walking through the quiet streets. Everyone was in the square by the tree, preparing for the wedding. The stupid, ridiculous wedding. It was absolutely unfair that she had to get _married_ to be considered an adult.

Her attention focused on the man again. He was tall and had a silly beard and a gold hoop in one ear. His skin was darker than she was used to seeing in Denerim, though the few times she’d snuck down to the docks she’d seen men and women like him. He wore two blades and light armour with blue and silver colouring.

His money pouch was hanging there on his belt, teasing her. She knew she shouldn’t… but he was the stupid shem that had walked into the alienage alone. It was almost _necessary_ to teach him a lesson for it.

Feyar grinned to herself and moved forward, her fingers tingling with excitement.


	2. B is for Blade

It was heavier than she was used to. She hefted it in her hand experimentally before turning on the two guards. They both took a step back. They had mocked Soris. They had laughed at the elf with the sword.

They weren’t laughing now.


	3. C is for Child

“I am _not_ a child,” Feyar snapped, crossing her arms and staring across the fire at the old man. He was old. Old as balls. She was not a child and he kept calling her one and she was ready to kick his kneecaps in.

She saw Duncan smile slightly as he continued preparing their dinner. “You are seventeen.”

“So? I stole your money pouch and you didn’t catch me,” she retorted. “Just because I’m short doesn’t make me a child.”

He sighed. “You are that.”

Feyar’s lips turned into a straight line and her large, green eyes narrowed dangerously. She was allowed to call herself short, no one else was. Especially not a humongous, stupid, old, ugly shem with a dumb earring and a huge nose.

“Eat this,” he finally said, handing her a bowl of stew.

She took the bowl from him, glaring daggers and pouting slightly (though she’d deny it to her grave). “Old fart.”

Duncan snorted and began to eat his own dinner, amusement evident. She knew she was going to hate him. Stinky, old, farty, mc-poop-head shem.


	4. D is for Darkspawn

They were really ugly. She balked a little when they ran into their first group of them. Her two little daggers against that thing. It was easily as tall as Alistair, who was almost twice her size, and it had a sword almost as big as Jory’s.

She had to do it though. This was what she agreed to. She went with the Old Fart and that took the pressure off of the alienage for the mess she’d made of Vaughan. She’d made this bed and she was going to lay in it, whether she wanted to or not.


	5. E is for Encounter

It was when she saw that big, dumb dog that she knew they were going to be okay. After that Ogre in the Tower of Ishal, and waking up in the Wilds with that crazy witch and her crazier mother… Feyar hadn’t been sure they’d make it anywhere. Not to mention that they were just two Wardens. It made the most sense to make for Orlais and hope they could get help from the Wardens there.

If they did that though, she’d likely never see her father again. Or her cousins. Or that stupid tree in the middle of that stupid alienage that she hated.

“It was pretty slick of you to get out of there,” she said as she pet the dog’s head and smiled. “And wait here. Did you know I’d come this way?”

He barked and wagged his tail at her, tongue lolling happily. “Alright then, Slick. You can come along.”


	6. F is for Fight

“I still can’t believe you tried to convince those bandits to fight for you,” Alistair said as they walked toward the outskirts of Lothering. 

“If I could get these bandits to fight for me, I’d do that too,” Feyar retorted. “They could have been useful. It was a ridiculous waste of life- What’s that?”

She stopped and pointed to the cage on the edge of town and moved closer.

“He murdered an entire family,” Leliana said softly as Feyar gazed at the large man sitting quietly.

“Okay, but what _is_ he? He looks like those mercenaries in Denerim, only he doesn’t have horns.”

“Tal Vashoth?” Alistair suggested. Inside the cage, the man opened his eyes and sneered.

“I am _not_ Vashoth,” he rumbled, and stood up, facing them. “What do you want? Do you wish to mock me?”

“If you’re not that Vashshatooth thing then what are you?” Feyar heard Morrigan snort behind her.

“I am Qunari.”

Feyar frowned and glanced at her companions before looking back to the caged man. “What’s the difference?”

“You are _bas_ , it would take too long to educate you, and would likely be pointless,” he replied. 

“Oh I _see_ , we are not _worthy_. Well, your highness, I am looking for warriors, and you happen to be one. If you don’t think it _beneath_ you, I _could_ let you out of that cage and give you a weapon to fight darkspawn with.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Alistair whispered, leaning closer to her. She waved him away.

“Why would you fight darkspawn?”

“Because if I don’t, no one else will. They’re all too busy fighting to see who gets to be in charge.”

“Altruism? That is your reason?” The Qunari raised an eyebrow, and looked at her with an odd expression.

“Let’s just say it’s my job.”

“You are a Grey Warden then.”

Feyar glanced around, noticing that none of the villagers seemed to be nearby and then shrugged.

“I expected you to be… taller.”

“I am as tall as I need to be,” she snapped, her ears heating and her face turning red.

“I have seen dwarves taller than you.”

“Do you want out of that cage or not?”

“The priestess holds the key. I will follow if you release me.”

Feyar snorted and opened a pouch on her belt, pulling out a set of lockpicks. “Who needs a key?”


End file.
